


Actions

by orphan_account



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Undertale Genocide Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 12:45:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9324194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Actions stand louder than words.An adaptation of a WIP by a friend.Check out the original version first: http://aminoapps.com/p/mownm2





	

Deep, heavy breaths. I swallow the surrounding air as I feel a numbing sensation climb up from my lower abdomen. The blood oozes out of the wound, streaming down the bone shard that punctured my stomach, forming a puddle on the yellow tiles. There is a familiar metallic taste in my mouth and a sickening smell in my nose. I stared down at my torso. How many times have I been in this exact same situation? Even more, how many times have I not been here? 

Then I make contact with his eyes. Deep, hollow eye sockets. If looks could kill then his certainly wouldn’t. I have been those eyes too many times to the point where nothing about him surprises me anymore. And I’m sure he feels the same about me. 

“T H I S I S W H Y I N E V E R M A K E P R O M I S E S.”

Words that echo in my mind as I start to black out. Words that have been recited by this comedian since the first time we met here in these hallways. They have always intrigued me. If he knows that I will come along to kill everyone then why doesn’t he stop me? Why does he watch on as I shatter every single soul in the Underground? Why doesn’t he stop me from taking his one chance to see the sun until now? 

WHY?

How is it that this three letter word continues to haunt me? I have attempted to seek the answers in which this question asks but to no avail. How is it that this simple word continues to swallow me up? I have attempted to swim the seas in which many answers float, trying to find the right one to build my raft yet it is to no avail. How is that this question mocks me in my face? The answer is right there yet with an answer comes another set of questions in which I try to answer but… it is all to no avail. 

I reach for my nearest save point and it teleports me back into Judgment Hall. He was leaning on the final pillar before the door on the far side of room, drinking ketchup and talking with himself. He gives a quiet chuckle at one of his own joke and reaches into his pocket for a red scarf in which he grasps onto tightly. I could feel memories flooding back to me. His jokes, his questionable hotdogs, even his brother. Memories I have repressed ever since I started ‘experimenting’.

“Oh why oh why did you do it Frisk? You had everything in the world at the control of your fingertips but you threw it all away. Why are you here Frisk? Why did you kill? You know… no one forced you to be this way. You chose it yourself and everyone knows it. 

You chose to toy with their emotions. You chose to hurt them. You chose to kill them. So why do I feel an immense amount of guilt within you? You wanted the world to be this way. Just own up to it! You like this feeling don’t you? You like feeling something ‘new’. Don’t worry though, you’re not the only one that does.”

The voice in my head rings the truth. Why did I do all of this? There was no gain what so ever in these consequences to my actions. Perhaps it was to have a new experience, see another side of the things we label ‘the norm’. 

I feel emotionless as I stride down the corridor. Despite the sudden burst of thoughts, my head is now empty and my mind set on one thing. I’d say that this clown has run out of punch lines and his stage time is up. 

The sun stopped shining it golden rays filled with hope a long time ago, now replaced with the sliver glow of hatred. The flowers stopped blooming long ago, their sweet, soft smell now replaced with a sharp, steel-like scent. The birds stopped chirping long ago, their joyous, harmonious melody a distant memory now replaced with a tense, eerie silence.

He merely gave me a glance as I approached. With a roll of his eyes, he recited the script again. And with a roll of the dice, I struck his right in the middle of his soul. Shallow, weak breaths. He merely moved his is original position as he took in the situation. And I gave him a shallow yet genuine frown, something new for the both of us. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of this kid? Don’t you think this killing… is it really worth it? I may not know what’s at the end of this so I am not one to judge, or perhaps I am. But Frisk, look here and tell me this. Are my words even reaching you anymore? In fact, is there even anything behind that neutral mask that you wear? Are you even Frisk?” 

Tears ran down his face. He was in pain both mentally and physically. The only thing I could do to answer his question was to strike again. It sounds sadistic of me to say it but it was the only way. Like pulling off a band aid, my new “MERCY”.

“I guess not…” 

If pictures are worth a thousand words then what is the value of actions equivalent to the things we say? We perform them everyday, sometimes without thinking, without speaking. It can turn people into something they’re not. Something they regret. Something they despise. What is it all worth?  
 

**Author's Note:**

> Undertale is by Toby Fox  
> This was an adaptation of a WIP.  
> Original can be found here: http://aminoapps.com/p/mownm2  
> Credits go out to him.


End file.
